Chapter 51
As Tobias arrives at the hospital, he is struck again by how parochial everything feels.
Just like when he was at the local police station he visited earlier, as though he is inhabiting some toy town—novel and antiquated.
Perversely, he would feel more reassured by the chaos of a crammed A at the magnolia walls, the blue curtains, the anodyne pictures of sailing boats.
His Adam’s apple is reaching up and down his throat as he tries to control his voice.
‘Look,’ says Tobias. ‘I’m not going to read either of you the riot act.
What would be the point? Clearly neither of you listen to a word your mother and I say anyway.
’ He grunts. ‘Ah well. It’s not as if either of us led a sainted life in our youth,’ he adds.
‘But I hope you’ve learned your lesson.’
Both his children drop their heads and nod, suitably shamefaced.
‘Try to rest,’ he urges Drew, who gratefully lies back on the pillows and closes his eyes.
Tobias hopes he didn’t bruise him too badly with his clumsy chest compressions.
His eyes drift to the heart monitor they have hooked his son up to and he briefly thinks about that very same heart and how it had stopped beating earlier.
He watches the electronic up-tick of each pulse, strong and steady, and tries not to count each one, waiting for the next and the next.
‘Dad,’ whispers Bella and he slowly drags his eyes away and focuses on her instead.
Her beautiful face is grey under all the fake tan, giving her skin a strange jaundiced cast. The residue of black kohl and mascara has left streaks of dirty tears down her cheeks and her eyes are sunken from lack of sleep and dehydration.
‘God, you look awful, Belle. Let’s get you home for a shower and bed.’
‘Dad,’ she tries again as he downs his tea and stands to leave. ‘Dad, have you managed to track down Mum yet?’
‘What? Oh, right, yes.’ He takes out his phone and taps into it.
The location app they all share as a family (though Drew and Bella seem to have become pretty adept at evading detection by switching theirs off) shows that Olivia’s phone is now registering at the hotel and charging.
‘It’s okay. As suspected, she’s back at the suite.
Hopefully she’ll pick up my last message, letting her know everything is all right.
’ He tuts. Trust her to stay out late and then sleep through all the drama.
Probably for the best though. She’d have only had histrionics.
‘Can we not mention this to her?’ says Bella, gathering her phone and handbag.
She looks so incongruous in her skimpy little summer dress and smeared make-up.
So much younger and vulnerable, somehow.
More like his little girl who used to end up with chocolate all over her face and would climb up onto his knee when she was cross or tired.
‘I mean about the drugs and everything. It would only worry her and I don’t want it all around the town. ’
‘Well, I won’t tell if you don’t but I can’t vouch for the local gossips. Talk spreads like wildfire in a place like this.’
He takes a sharp in-breath at this as he remembers the devastation of the house fire again, the burned-out shell of the renovation.
His brain feels as if it has far too many tabs open at once and each time he deals with one situation, he finds there is another and another to contemplate.
He craves sleep. There is a tremor to his hands.
He is still so hungover and thirsty, he can’t think straight anymore.
As he beckons Bella out of the room and they walk the quiet corridor back to the main reception area, he realises his daughter, like his wife, still isn’t in possession of the full facts.
‘I should tell you, Belle. That fire. It was our house, the renovation property,’ he sighs heavily. ‘The whole place is gutted.’
He says this bald statement in an effort to remind himself but each time it is still a shock.
‘What? Shiiit,’ says Bella with a slow exhalation. ‘But how?’
‘Late last night, sometime during the fireworks, or afterwards. The police suspect arson too so it looks like whoever did this picked their moment very well, when the whole town would be busy celebrating.’
‘Wow,’ she says, the word stretching out like bubble gum. ‘You hear about this kind of thing but you never think it would happen for real. What do you reckon might have caused it? Who could be responsible?’
‘I have my suspicions, Belle. And so do the police. Luckily, I’d installed a hidden camera recently, outside the property. Just as a security precaution. It will have recorded footage of any comings and goings over the last couple of days.’
Bella turns to look at him, agog, her bloodshot eyes widening.
‘Really?’
‘Yes. I haven’t had chance to look at it all properly but I’ve transferred it to the police and they’re examining it now.’
‘Isn’t it a bit difficult to see anything clearly on those things?’
‘Oh no, I ordered the top notch kind, full colour and everything, even at night.’
‘Right,’ she says, seemingly in awe of this revelation and for the first time that day he feels a small swell of satisfaction.
‘That’s not all. Two people were found on site.
Victims of the fire. God knows what they were doing there.
Trespassing no doubt, but the poor buggers are probably goners I imagine.
’ Bella’s hand flies to her mouth in shock and her skin turns a little more ashen under the strip lighting.
She looks as though she could faint for a moment, unsteady on her Bambi-like legs.
‘Come on,’ he says. ‘Let’s get home. We both must look like the walking dead. ’
Tobias pulls the car along the driveway towards the hotel and parks up in the usual bay – the one he likes to assume as his own personal space.
The hotel and grounds are busier now. God, how can it still be Sunday, he wonders as he climbs out of the car and casts a glance over towards the horizon, the sun still shining on what has felt like the longest day.
And he still has to deal with Olivia, his heart leaden at the thought.
‘Leave your mother to me, Belle. I’ll update her on everything. You just get yourself to bed and then lie low for a bit.’
As they let themselves into the suite, they find Olivia emerging, pink and glistening, from the shower, clouds of steam billowing from the bathroom. She has the good grace to look a little shifty as she pads through to them, leaving wet footprints on the thick pile carpet.
‘Where the hell have you been?’ he says. He takes in her tired, haunted-looking eyes and wonders for the first time if his wife is okay. Perhaps she has heard the bad news already. ‘Did you pick up any of my messages? I’ve been trying to get hold of you all day.’
She sighs with an air of genuine regret and points to her phone charging in the nearby socket.
‘No, sorry. My phone died last night and I’ve … well, I’ve being feeling a bit below par this morning. Like most people, I imagine.’ She eyes him steadily, as though daring the pot to call the kettle black. ‘I feel terrible, actually. So please don’t shout at me, Tobias.’
His anger immediately evaporates when he remembers what he still has to tell her. How her day is about to get a whole lot worse.
‘Come through to the lounge and sit down, Liv,’ he says. ‘I’ve got to tell you something.’
‘Why? What’s wrong?’ Her voice rises in concern, her brow furrowing. She is clearly confused by his tenderness, was obviously expecting a row.
‘Here, sit,’ he says.
‘What’s going on, Tobias? What’s happened?’
‘Now, please, try to stay calm.’
‘I am calm. You’re the one making me nervous,’ she says.
‘He’s all right now, but Drew’s in the local hospital.’
‘What?’ she cries, immediately standing again, her towel threatening to fall to the floor.
‘He got into difficulties last night, down by the water, with Bella and some local kids.’
‘Belle? Where is she?’
‘In her room. Leave her be. She’s fine. They’re both fine. Just need to sleep and recover.’ He gives a weary sigh. ‘Like the rest of us.’
‘I must go to him.’
‘No, wait. There’s something else …’
‘I heard sirens last night,’ she wails. ‘This morning. Was that the ambulance for Drew? Oh my God, how could I have …?’
‘How could you what?’ asks Tobias. ‘This was no one’s fault, Olivia. Just kids being kids. Getting a bit loose and taking risks. Like we used to do when we were young.’
She dips her head, covers her face with her hands and starts to sob, her shoulders shaking.
‘Hey, hey,’ he says. ‘Don’t be silly.’
He tries to put his arm around her, but the gesture feels painfully awkward. How did they get like this? So emotionally and physically distant that he has forgotten how to comfort his own wife.
‘I didn’t know. I wasn’t there,’ she says through a veil of tears.
‘You weren’t to know. How could you?’
‘I’ve let them down. My children. I should have been there.’
‘Oh for goodness’ sake, don’t go hauling yourself over the rack now. We can’t be there for them every minute of the day. Checking up on them. Got to let them fly the coop some time.’
‘And what about you? Drunk as a skunk, no doubt?’
‘Now, hang on a second, Livvy …’
She paces the lounge now, stopping to stare out of the window as though searching for something or someone before coming back to look down on him imperiously.
How quickly they seem to go from anger to sadness, guilt to blame.
She hugs herself, rocking back and forth before she starts up the pacing again.
‘Why can I never just have one moment of joy for myself? One night of happiness and freedom?’
She seems to be saying this to herself rather than directing these questions to him.
‘Look, it’s safe to say we all let ourselves go a bit last night,’ he says. ‘Speaking of which, where did you end up? Last thing I remember, you had a headache …’
‘You could never understand how I feel, Tobias,’ she says.
‘Is this about the shop you decided to let? Your so-called new life down here as a gallery owner? Because, if it is, I’ve got news for you, sweetheart.’
Olivia comes to a halt and rounds on him.
‘What?’
Tobias blows out a puff of air, scratches his head, searching for the right words as he finds there is no easy way to tell her about the fire. He is about to go ahead and blurt it out when his phone rings and he sees it is a local number calling. Perhaps it’s the hospital.
‘Tobias Woolf,’ he answers, his voice serious.
The voice at the other end matches his formality.
‘Hello, Mr Woolf, it’s Detective Price here. I’m just calling with an update on the investigation, as requested.’
‘Ah, good,’ he says. ‘What have you found?’
‘Well, we’ve been analysing the video footage you supplied us with and it has thrown up a few avenues of enquiry, which we’ve been following through.
One thing I thought I should mention is the fact that we have a sighting of a female entering and leaving the property last night before the fire started. ’
‘Oh, yes,’ he says, his blood rising. ‘Can you identify them? Is it that Jenkins woman staying next door, as I suggested?’
‘We do have footage of both Mr and Mrs Jenkins with their child, coming and going at several times of day, finally returning to the property in the late hours of Saturday evening, which corroborates with both of their statements.’
‘And?’ prompts Tobias, frustration beginning to throb at his temples now.
‘Well, more interesting is the fact that there was an unidentified female seen that night on the property, who would seem to be someone else entirely. They’re wearing different clothes, appear to have a different figure.
Taller. Bare legs. It’s hard to get a clear picture so late at night.
Their face is partially covered. But we can clearly identify one distinguishing feature from the footage. ’
‘Yes,’ says Tobias. ‘What’s that?’
‘The person in question has long hair, sir. Long, red hair.’
Tobias listens to the detective’s voice at the end of the phone, expecting them to say more, to give further clarification, though their meaning is quite implicit.
‘I see,’ he says and as he lifts his eyes from where they have been raking the carpet, he catches sight of someone on the threshold of the room, standing in the doorway, listening. His daughter, Bella.